


Sally's final year of high school

by pencil_in_bun



Category: this is not a fandom work...sorry
Genre: Other, nope - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencil_in_bun/pseuds/pencil_in_bun
Summary: I don't really know how the story goes yet because it hasn't happened but it's sort of a public diary about a girl's last year of high school... Yeah that's probably it :D





	1. before it all started

Hi, I’m Sally.

I’m a 17 year old girl who is starting her senior year of high school tomorrow. I haven’t written anything in a while so I’m a little rusty but bear with me, at least until this first chapter ended. I have a thousand problems to address just like any other teenager who can’t find their voice in speaking yet ironically find a voice in the rhythms of keyboard, pouring out the words that no one will ever hear. So I write and I write and I write but here’s the basics that you need to know in order to somewhat understand me and what you will be reading about.

First, I know that I didn’t have it worse than other teenagers because Hey! I’m not writing this drunk or stoned. I’m not pregnant with a baby along the way, I’m not fighting with anyone even though I’m also not being friends with most people. I say I did pretty great these past few years. If you would want to stereotype me? That’s for another chapter but you can say I’m a nerd or a good girl and a secret fangirl of many fandoms but that’s also for another time because we all know how that can go on forever ;)

My struggle had to do with me and only me. I was always the quietest kid in the room. People used to think I’m mute or weird. I used to cry when I have to speak in front of the class or even answer a few questions. I got better somehow but not good enough. I like to settle for the easy routes in life but finding who I am and my voice (literally) is not one of the things I can settle with. I’m not going to lie and say I’m happy even if it makes me sound like some ungrateful brat.

You know the Mulan song “reflection”? It goes something like ‘who is that girl I see staring straight right at me, when will my reflection show who I am insideeee!” Yeah, I may have belt out the last part aloud with frustration numerous times because when I look into the mirror I see me but I don’t want to be me. I want to be better. I want to be able to make normal conversations like other human beings can so easily do. I don’t want to be put inside a box. I don’t want to wear my hair like this or talk like this or act like this but for now I’ll learn to live with the reflection in the mirror. For now, we cope with it until something better comes along.

Sally is my alter ego, you know, the cooler/ more fun version of me yet she’s not the version of me that I’ll post on Instagram. She is honest and quite controversial that’s what she is. It’s a nickname given by my best friend and I want to be Sally with everyone but the thing is, not everyone knows me as Sally and not everyone can stomach my weird (but not in an attractive way like Newt Schmander) personality. If I could, I would love to act around everyone like how I act around my best friend but so very little people bring out Sally. So she stays hidden until I write.

I want to lay myself bare for once even if it’s anonymously. It’s still me behind the computer and that’s terrifying but I want to document the last year of high school with witnesses who wouldn’t know me as who I usually act. That way I can be honest and you can too. I don’t want to forget. I want the memories to live as vividly as possible even as time goes on. So here we go, I think I’m going to write about emotions, opinions, situations and some obsessions that stood out this year. I don’t know how long I’ll write or whether I’ll even write the next chapters but I’m just going to say it right now, to clear the air that I’m not writing this for you even if I’m asking you to come along this journey and be my friend. I also know that it’s selfish but at least this is what I’m giving you…nothing. I’m giving you no promises, no goals, no plotlines… absolutely nothing.

We’re both going into the unknown. My future is scary like all futures are, especially if it held a threatening shadow that things will change. This school year is scary, it’s the bridge to my university days but knowing that there are no expectations kind of guarantees a little safety that there will be less disappointments for you and for me…  
Bye, from Sally

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. here goes nothing.


	2. The pre-beginning of the end

Hi, I’m Sally  
And here goes nothing.

Tomorrow I start my senior year of High School. If you are congratulating me, you probably haven’t finish the first three years of hell. If you’re not, perhaps I should congratulate you because I think you’ve finally made it out alive and you’re curious if I will too or not because I’ve been warned that the worst is yet to come so is the best but what fun is it to look forward to the best when most stuff that had happened in the past three years of school had been quite the opposite.

Last time I say I’ll talk about labels or stereotypes to be accurate. I guess I’ll be talking about it sooner than I thought because it’s one of the things I face with while searching for who I am. Sometimes labels confuse me inside because they don’t match what other people say I am. After all I’m just one person, one opinion. How in the world can I be sure that who I think I am is really who I am when other people tell me otherwise (is that confusing? My apologies) I’m going to warn you that this chapter is going to go everywhere because I have a lot to say. Though I’ve written about it many times in a variety of ways but it’s a new year so I’ll throw on a new perspective. I’ll try to make as much sense as possible.

Let’s start with me because who else would I know better or know less. I got my idea for writing this chapter when I was at the barber shop this morning. Chopping my shoulder length hair away into a chin length bob just because my mom told me so. The truth is, yes! my mom is strict and I’ve tried to reason with her that I don’t want to wear my hair like this a million times but I can’t deny that I’ve gotten used to it. I stopped fighting for what I want after a while and just go with the flow. I’m afraid of change. I remember the first time I walked into school with my freshly cut bob in 8th grade. Everyone turned and stared. It was a change that I can’t hide. It made me feel uncomfortable because I hate to be the spotlight. I didn’t feel confident even though most people say it suited me or even now that I’ve grown to like how it looked on me.

The truth is, if I want to switch back to tying up my hair, I have to go through that torturing process of “the change” again. The stares and the unwanted attention. It would take a week at most, for all of my friends to register and after that my hair style will not be my change but my ‘normal’. People will expect to see me like that and all will be fine. For a while I wonder, why change? If what you have is enough. This hair style isn’t that bad. People even say that I look cute in it but it set me apart so much more than before. Not many teens wear bobs and I have zero classmates who did. I strive to be unique but this isn’t it! because being unique or different isn’t the same as being myself. I was already the quiet and shy one so this hairstyle kind of enhance that side of me. I looked more nerdy than before if that’s even possible.

People say that the appearance or what you wear isn’t who you are. I call that bullshit. What you wear or how you look is already more than 50% of who you are, the rest depends on how you act. Call me shallow but that’s what I think. I don’t know why but if people expect me to be or act a certain way, I’ll be it. 

I’ve played the good girl role since kinder-garden. I’ve never change school since then. It’s like Emma Watson coming out of Harry Potter. It feels like you’ve been doing it so long, this socializing and stuff but the truth is I’m really inexperienced and just like Emma. People used to see her as only Hermione and with me, people only see me as the good girl. In the world out there, I can be whoever I want without people expecting me to act a certain way but again I’m scared that I will be nothing without a label. I just realized that despite hating how I act and where I stand in the school society, I still can’t let go of my labels because like my hair I’ve grown used to be known as the “nerd one” or “the one you come to copy homework” or “the one to write your free essays”. Like it or not, my labels define who I am and without it, I’m not even sure who I will be anymore.

At school, I had quite the reputation of being an angel. I know how that sounds. Feel free to roll your eyeballs. You need to relax them. Okay, you done? I’ll continue. I was the sweet one, always saying what you want to hear which sometimes isn’t the truth. My ex-best friend used to go around telling lies about what I say behind other people’s backs. I was hurt but I never confronted her and we pretended to like each other for a year until we finally drifted apart but it wounded me badly. I asked advice from my grandmother, she told me to never give my opinions on someone because people will use it against me so I built a wall of “okay” and “I don’t know” so no one can say I said the wrong thing and it worked, apparently. Until this day, I have not found anyone who hated me, yet I’ve found very few who love me as well. I guess you have to win some or lose some. If you don’t expose yourself or your thoughts then no one would know what to think of you but is that who you want to be? Is that who I want to be? In Hamilton the musical there’s a lyric that goes “if you stand for nothing, Burr, what do you fall for?” and it hit me hard.

Being the good girl meant I can’t swear, I can’t break the rules, I can’t be carefree, I can’t fangirl. Of course no one set up those rules but I did all of it and it did not choke me to death somehow, all that deceiving became who I am and I don’t want to let go because I’ve been so good at playing it. I actually can break those rules if I’m brave and confident or slightly more extroverted but I wasn’t. People have never seen me like that so there goes “the change” again. If I break the rules a few times then it will be expected but the first time is the hardest, the most unexpected and people will talk and gossip and there comes the spotlight. Aren’t convinced? Then think about every Disney stars gone bad, I’m sure there’s quite a selection. Then think of your first impression of them when they acted out of the world or do “crazy” things that are actually what normal teens do. Yeah, hold that thought because that is the exact thought that I’m afraid people will think of me, judge me. “The change” might seem very trivial to most people but for me, it’s not. It never will be.

So hey! I set myself a cage and I’ve locked myself up for years and years until the prison bar became my home. My bob hair that I hated became who I am. My best friend called me helmet head once because it looked like I was wearing a helmet, it’s actually a pretty cool nickname now because I share it with Clay from 13 reasons why. My hair is a metaphor actually. I think the helmet shape made me feel safe but it made me feel contained as well, trapped even, like that cage I put myself in. Only recently had I stopped blaming society for how I act. Only recently had I crawl into a little ball in the dark and found that the key out of this prison was hung around my neck all along.

So I guess what I’m trying to convey is… and you should not take this as an example because it ain’t inspirational. Behind those labels, we can be so much more. Behind “the popular girl” or “the cheerleader” can be the most insecure person in the world or it can be “nerd girl” and on the other hand behind “nerd girl” can be a funny girl who loves to say shit when she watches scary movies. I can’t stop myself or people or society from putting me in one category but I’m trying so hard to see people beyond what they let on, to except that we have more depth than those perfect pictures on social media, those 2hour movie characters, those Disney princesses. 

No matter how much I’m afraid of label sticking to me at school, I’m also afraid when labels peel off in university or wherever else I will end up after this year because then I’ll need faith that people will like me for who I am or that I am not just a two dimension person. I’m not nothing, I’m something more or at least that’s what I hope I am.

Bye, From Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. still trying to remain Sally


	3. The Begining

Hi, I’m Sally   
And I failed to remain Sally today so here goes nothing.

Alright! Phew, I can officially say that the first day of school is DONE. If I had to describe this day as a bowl of food. I’d say it’s mixed with milk, sardines, raw eggs and a tiny dash of rainbow sprinkles. It is as awful as it sounds and I think I might have consume something of that sort because my day started with me running to the bathroom with the speed of Zeus's lightning bolt despite the raindrop’s lullaby against my window. 

Today was flooded with nostalgia because my little sister is just starting 7th grade and at my school, you get to cross the bridge from 6th grade to another building and that’s where you’ll be studying for the next 6 years. I forgot how I felt back then but I bet I was excited and nervous. My sister though said that she felt fine except for the fact that she felt so ‘noob’ (Ugh, I hate that word for no apparent reason, somehow it manages to sound more insulting than the word fuck)

I missed the easy old days and I found that once I got through all those years, it doesn’t seem as hard. I was less afraid of the teachers who taught me in 7th grade but back then I was terrified. I just wish I could say the same for the teachers in my senior year. So far I’ve done math, science, critical writing English and French. There’s a mish-mash of good and bad but nothing that’s unbearable or fearful.

The worst part today was probably when the teacher call my whole entire class to talk about the rules and other stuff that I was usually really good at listening but my diarrhea thinks otherwise. I got up in the middle of my teacher’s sentence and ask another teacher for permission to the toilet. She said it will only be a few minutes until it's over but I said I have a stomachache and rushed by 50 classmates and the other teachers as well and by the looks of how I ran I think it wouldn’t be hard to guess what I was up to. When I got to the toilet… as you may picture it, my ass gave a full on mustard fireworks. Yes, there were loud sound effects and yes, it may have stunk enough that some people outside complained that someone must have shit in there and sure thing, that’s the truth. Being the shy girl that I am, I was mortified so I waited for the smell to be less powerful and slipped out.

Now, I can confidently say that I have a baby face and I can write about it in another full chapter if it ever bother me that much. Seeming younger than my age had never been my problem because again, it suited my ‘look’ yet something started to stir in me today as a teacher told me that I looked like I just graduated 6th grade. I didn’t felt like a joke, not really but I wanted to be taken seriously. I mean, I have a credible reputation, I’ve got enough responsibilities but I just want for once to look like I belong. Because looking the part has always been my thing. I feel the need to look like a 17 year old girl in order to feel like a senior. Now, I just felt like a kid trying to walk around the house with her mommy’s shoes that are twice the six of her feet. I’m not sure if this is just my lovely hormones talking because I’ve never looked into ‘my baby face’ thing that much. I'll let it slide.

Other crappy parts of my day included, feeling weird in class without my best friend. Not volunteering to take any leader position or answering questions when I know full well of the right answer. If you’ve watched the perks of being a wall flower, I’m Charlie on that first day of school. When the teacher ask the class questions and Charlie knew the answers yet he kept quiet and wrote it down on his notebook. Yeah, that’s me, minus the writing in notebook and teacher started to notice that he’s a damn smart and talented wallflower.   
Because in real life, I don’t think anyone notices people like me. Because in real life, I’m so much more awkward than Charlie that even if someone gave me the opportunity and the luxury of not being judged, I still can’t be myself. I’m the flaws of being a wallflower, wallflower is even too fancy a word for me.

So that concluded my day. The rainbow sprinkle part of the bowl today being the fact that I was productive enough to review some French for my uni exams, being able to talk to my sister without fighting and actually replying to ALL the text I’ve received and if you know me, that is some revolutionary actions. Anyway, my best friend said that “the first day needed to be bad so the next days couldn’t get worse” and though I don’t fully agree that one terrible day will turn into sunshine for others. That’s what I choose believe. I need to be able to still hope that tomorrow will get easier somehow…  
Yes, it’s late at night and yes I just reference a soundtrack by imagine dragons from the movie’ Me before You’… 

Bye, from Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. hoping for a better memory to cherish


	4. fun breakdowns

Hi, I’m Sally  
Here’s a memory to cherish, and here goes nothing.

I know that my period is coming when I hysterically cry while watching the 100 (usually it’s the silent sobs). This year is going to be interesting because it’s only been a week into my senior year and I’ve already had a mental breakdown. Although I can blame everything on my hormones these days, thanks to my gender and my age, I still think that it comes from a deeper place. This year, there was SO many courses, TOO many, that are focusing on leadership and confidence. I’m taking more tutorial classes than ever. I’m getting stress around people just because I’m an introvert. Talking about all of it now even makes me feel sick and anxious to my stomach. 

I’m not ready.

Suddenly it all hit me that I’m not ready to turn eighteen and go to university and have all these responsibilities! Though it’s time… Everyone is moving on. My childhood best friend is moving to England to study. My sister is walking the same corridor of my school. My grandparents are getting older. We’re changing every day.

Today, the life of Sally had a huge plot twist. I had a breakdown at the cause of a collection of bad luck scenarios that’s been piling up this week and a few acknowledgements of the 'unknown necessities' (will explain later). I was stress from suddenly taking many extra classes, realizing I’m not good enough and my best friend may be getting into the faculty we both want alone. My favorite pair of flip flops broke and I’m forced to buy the 'unknown necessities', consisted of, a pair of black Ked looking sneakers, 3 pairs of sock because my shoes gave me blisters and because it’s on sale. To top it off I had to order my first mocha because I’m tired and sweaty.

Turns out, I had one more 'unknown necessity' than I realized. But before we get to that, I’ll have to explain a few things.

I’ve always wanted to be good enough to meet other people’s and my own unrealistic expectations but I always tell myself and others that I’m not as good as you think. I told myself that I’m stupid and selfish even though my grades said otherwise, I know that I’m no genius because I forget everything after the tests, I’m terrible at real life skills and solving problems on the spot.

Then one tiny incident, one person and a few words that I’ve heard so many times changed how I felt.

I went to study IELTS yesterday for the first time. I met a tutor, she believed in me like many do but I said I’m less than what you expected. She knew that I tried to tweak my English accent so I don’t sound as fluent. She noticed that when she complimented me, I always refused to take it. Then she said a bunch of clichés that I’ve heard like ‘life is short’ or ‘you should be proud of who you are’ or ‘don’t let society change you’ but this time it sunk, not immediately because my brain is slow so it takes a while to acknowledge things but I realized what kind of shit I have done to my life. 

Since I was young, I talked to my dad in English so I’m really fluent. I tried to hide it because it’s not normal. I used to hate when my dad picked me up at school because other kids didn’t use English to communicate with their dads. I feel ashamed that I’m good at English not because I studied hard or picked it up on my own but because my dad had granted me that ability. I feel guilty every time someone complimented me on how good I am with languages. I brushed of all compliments and confused it with modesty when it actually came from my low self- esteem. I never see it as a talent because if I move to an English speaking country, I’m just a normal girl without any talent. I will not be special and though I fear of being different, I also fear of being nothing, hallowed.

There are days that I came home feeling like an empty shell because I failed what I expected of myself. There are questions that I felt I could’ve answered better if I had time to think so I don’t look so dumb. There are so many things that I regret doing and not doing but I shouldn’t have denied that I’m talented. I’m good at this even if I didn’t start from zero because I kept it up. I learned more vocabularies by watching Disney shows and found a growing love of getting lost in English books. Thanks to my obsessions with Percy Jackson that forced me to purchase an English copy instead of waiting for the translation of the sequel in another year.

I am not bad or worthless. I am good but just not good enough and for now, this is all I have to know. This is what I have to accept. I can’t just go from the present to the future that I want, I have to work for it. I’ve known this for so many years but it’s only now that I believe it.  
I had enough of picturing myself in New York but never actually dare to do something about that dream. I need to get into the university I want because I love the program. I’ll do everything that I can control to get in because even if I’m terrible at making friends at least I can be sure that I’m putting up with 4 years of more studying and assignments and awkward first conversations for something I love.

I want it and I may not be good enough yet but just you wait… in case you didn’t catch it, that’s a Hamilton reference.

Those few cliché words became my 'unknown necessities' and the scary thing with it is you never know how much you 'need' it until you actually 'need' it. I never knew I had to buy a new pair of shoes until my old one broke. I never knew I wanted a pair of socks to go with my new shoes until my feet had blisters. Sometimes going back to basic is good, going back to wanting almost nothing used to be enough when we were little and we were happier back then, aren’t we? But we’re changing and our list of 'unknown necessity' grow with us every day. Sometimes that’s a good surprise but when it’s something that you had known the value for many years but never act upon it, you’ll feel like crap once you realized that it’s your 'unknown necessity' and it’s been waiting for you to acknowledge it all this time.

I wanted to end this on a positive note but I can’t because I’m not sure that I can believe in myself when I’ve been doing the opposite for 17 years. I’ll never have those moments in movies that the shy character had an issue and after the epiphany, they just transformed their whole personality. The shade is on you, Gabriella Montez, no one gets over stage fright that easily. I’m a work in progress, I take time and I so hope with all my heart that this time I’ll stick with it.

Bye, from Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. I spent 4 hours writing this and feel like I want to vomit but it’s all good.


	5. let's talk love

Hi, I’m Sally  
And here goes something? 

A little update.

So I guess I have to love myself now. It’s still weird to me. After my melt down, I’ve been brutally honest with my best friends about what I felt and not one of them had judged me. They also agreed that some of the problems I had are what they are going through as well. I cried a lot and I ended up making one of my friends cry too. You should know at this point that when I said I had ‘best friends’, I meant the tiniest form of plural (meaning 2) This week, I tried to be conscious with my thoughts and tried to pull myself away if I’m starting to get depressed. I’m taking care of myself and it feels kind of nice but also scary once I realized how many unhealthy things sunk in my mind all these years without me noticing.

But this chapter would be boring if I kept throwing myself a pity party so I’m writing about… a particular form of love from a 21th century teenage girl’s point of view.  
Romantic love, the untouched topic. I don’t know how far I can go with this honest opinion on love because I usually gloss over it in my fictions. Where the boy who came into the girl’s life has to be either the 'end game' or the 'temporary love interest', well…that’s what happens when you never had any interaction with guy friends. Here’s a question for you 21th century women out there. Should guys always make the first move towards a relationship? And more specifically, Can a girl ask out a guy?

If you want to sound modern and cool, then HELL YES is your answer. If you are afraid of losing your pride or seeming easy, then HELL NO! Is the way to go, another alternative is to look into each scenarios individually. If I were friends with a guy and I knew there is something there that wasn’t there before (Beauty and the Beast reference, by the way) I would probably make a petite move just to test the waters. Don’t take my opinions seriously though, because I have zero experience with guys (that aren’t fictional) whether being just friends or more.

If I don’t know the guy personally AT ALL and being kind of like a secret admire which is the polite way of saying being one step away from an obsessive stalker, then it’s a NO NO from me. Call me a Simon Cowell on this but this situation isn’t getting into the next round until he notices your existence in this galaxy. 

Now, the last scenario is interesting and hit quite close to home, not my home but a neighboring home, if you will.  
What if you had a history with the guy but you’re not close to him anymore. Like an acquaintance and here’s the tricky part because you sort of know him already but you’re not quite his friend so you can definitely exclude the factor of ‘not wanting to date my friend because I’m afraid to lose everything’ away. What if you sensed that there’s a huge possibility of things that could happen and all you need is a move? This is after several months of considering and reconsidering and excruciatingly analyzing every interaction that you exchanged that there’s definitely something there! What if you finally came to a conclusion that you should stop pretending to be naïve and just see the signs, then what? He hasn’t made the huge move yet and you’ve already initiate once and you’re afraid of letting yourself dive too deep and oh the possibilities of how this could go wrong are endless! That’s the dramatic me talking.

When you’re not an extrovert or just simply a brave introverted girl, you know that making the move isn’t in your factor and will never be. It’s like watching Ross and Rachel’s10 seasons of will they- won’t they, when all you want is a simple Chandler and Monica romance. I apologize for the non-friends fans out there. The reference may not be helpful but you get the gist.

That’s the thing with being shy. You usually don’t get answers and actually, you have to get used to getting nothing that you want. My other answer is to let go but what if you can’t because he runs into you a magical few times a week. Damn it! It’s hard and complicated. My only other way is a go-between, a mutual friend from both parties who can do the work, the flirting and the confessions but not everyone had that sort of luxury.

My true question is... Will a girl be asking too much for a guy to just text her to hang or just clear the air? Because the excitement and giddiness will die down. Someday, the secret glances won’t be enough and you would want clarity. I personally love a little hard to get game but we can’t play forever.

So there it is… no answers again. We all love definitions and answers to feel safe but that’s not happening anytime soon so for now, stay safe in the unknown zone.

Bye, from Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. See you when the future sparks a story worth remembering


	6. a brief moment of being Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little Pirates of the Caribbean spoilers but I'll give you a heads up

Hi, I’m Sally.  
And I’m sick *cough aggressively and breathe in almost none oxygen* 

Yup! The flu has finally taken me. Embracing me even harder than I can but it ain’t stoppin’ me from writtin’. I just realized that I talk weird even in my writing when I’m sick so I’ll tone it down just for your lovely eyes and also my eyes in the near future. 

Today’s topic isn’t new but it kind of suits my ‘love ma-self theme’ and it is ‘being myself’. Let me have the honor to proudly present you the highlight of this week. The tale that I’ve repeated no less than 3 times to family and friends. That is… “The Speech!” I put the exclamation point for dramatic effects, obviously. In reality it’s… “THE SPEECH o_o”  
Let’s go back to when I received this infamous “speech” assignment from last week. In my English ‘presentation class’ yes that’s really the name of the course and yes it is the nightmare of every introverts, I was given an assignment to give an impromptu speech for my sister’s wedding. As soon as I heard it, I knew it would be the death of me. 

Fast forward to the day before the speech, I started writing my script and read it aloud to my sister. I knew that it could’ve been better and less cheesy so after my sister gave a tiny compliment and went up to sleep, I decided to practiced it until I memorized most of it before I got lazy and went to sleep. The next morning, I woke up feeling overly paranoid and nervous. My script was personal and touching that’s what I opt for. I left it drained of humor because that’s what people expected from me.

The actual speech though, was horrifying. People were already shedding tears from previous speeches because they were giving it to each other. The weird thing is I’d written and seen a few of my friend’s scripts before they went up to give the speech and it vary from normal to pretty great but none of them were tear jerkers yet there was so much genuine in each speech that it’s hard not to feel emotional.

I didn’t cry though. Despite the whole class having tear stained faces, I was the outsider so I did not shed a single tear and I felt slightly awkward being the only one who didn’t need a tissue. In my defense, I’m typically a sensitive person but I am like a rock when my period strikes andddd we’re getting personal again. Anyways, when it was my turn (I was the last btw) I didn’t have enough time to freak out before one of my close friends was sobbing during her speech. I felt really bad so I stopped rehearsing and started listening.  
It was finally time… I stood up with all eyes on me plus my teacher’s video camera pointed at my face, recording evidence of my failure. It was nerve wrecking. I remember bits of the speech that it went slow. I looked at my script a lot because I keep forgetting things. Then my voice and hands started to shake but it luckily fits the tone of my speech so it looked quite emotional. The important part was I didn’t look at the script when I was talking about my childhood, I didn’t look at my humor- drained script when I actually made a joke and I was on the verge of my tears when I said that I did not know how I survived 6 years of being an only child and that my sister is one of the very few people I can always be myself with.

A friend complimented me but I still think that my speech is cheesy so I denied that it was any good. To be honest, cheesy is probably my style of writing and I don’t necessary love it but it’s not that embarrassing in the present. My point is that, I made a joke and half the class probably did not catch that but it felt nice to be something else… to be myself. It’s a small movement for me to break free from the typical frame of goody two shoes that I had and to everyone, it wasn’t as big of a deal as I saw in my head but it’s something that I’m proud of. It made me feel that despite not looking the part, I could be fun. I felt like I discovered myself again and it’s kind of nice. 

To be fair, if you want to be critical, it wasn’t a good speech at all. I was shaking and the paper in my hand was so big and distracting because it seemed to be held by one of those vibrating massage machines. The only eye contact I made is the paper and the camera and tiny glimpses at the teacher and my classmates. I needed a microphone because my voice had a very low audible but it was good enough for me.

I told you a while ago that Sally is my alter ego. She’s the one who wrote my script and like every author whose book got adapted into movies, we want the actors and the stories to transfer well on screen. I think I gave my writing-self justice and I love my self just for that and solely that. I was never the one to fit into society. I wasn’t the popular one. I wasn’t the one who tried to be popular. I wasn’t exactly unpopular. I seem like I don’t even have the heart to care about judgment. I seem like I’m in this bubble where I’m immune to other people’s opinions but I’m not. I’m just too lazy to change anything.

I realized a few days ago that the only place that I have to fit in, is myself. I have to be happy with who I am, then I can be happy anywhere. I have to love myself in order to be myself. It usually was the reverse. I wanted to ‘be myself’ then love myself later. Being yourself is an amazing message but do we actually know who we are? I guess we have an idea of that but in my case, I always pictured being myself meant being normal, being extroverted and friendly but that’s not me. It could be me with some people that I’m close with but deep down… I know that it’s not and I’ve been dying from failing myself over and over because I just can’t ‘be the version of myself that society accepted’

I look up to many celebrities in my life who are just full of light and themselves such as Emma Stone, I love that she embraces and made fun of her weird self. Eddie Redmayne, also weird and adorable. Kristen Stewart, even more awkward in interviews and still doesn’t give a damn that people tell her that she can’t act. Zooey Deschanel, quirky and lovable but what I love most is she’s unafraid to show her girly side which in this day and age seems to be quite an unpopular and underrated trait for women.  
Last but not least, my new found favorite, my captain Jack Sparrow. My dad loves Johnny Depp but I was always not as big of a fan of him. I found the roles he chose to play fascinating but somehow I was just never curious of his history or his personal life off screen. That was before I started getting obsess with Pirates of the Caribbean last year and went to see the fifth film just last week.

BEWARE! FANGIRL ALERT...DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES SPOILER!

 

I love the guy who played Henry Turner!!! Okay fangirl moment over, now back to Jack… I also freakishly love him too!!! Now back to Johnny… but for real Henry is gorgeous, he’s so perfect for Will’s son and that scene in the end where Will and Elizabeth ran across the field and kissed…oh my heart. I actually shed a few tears. It was beautiful.

 

Okay…DANGER ZONE OVER

I love Johnny Depp. He’s so awkward and different from his characters. The way he’s unable to form normal sentences in real life is the most relatable personality I’ve ever seen in actors. I know this is not news to anyone but it is to me. I think it’s admirable that he lets himself be so very different on screen and off screen without caring what anyone’s saying. Of course, he’s an actor, it’s his job to be different from who he is but I think it takes a lot of bravery, almost as much bravery as sailing the black pearl to battle Salazar, to break someone’s expectations.

And It’s kind of what I strive to be. 

Bye, from Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. Let’s bring me the horizon of the dreadful Mondays, I’m ready! And I’m an awful liar but a great believer...there will come a day where Mondays are acceptable.


	7. Not Being Ready

Hi, I’m Sally

And here goes another story

In life, we are usually not prepared for shitty things to happen. Life is like a war zone and you leave home every day unarmed. Last week, I failed miserably to help out my best friend because I can’t communicate like a normal human in presentations and social situations. She never blamed me and after my ‘speech’ incident, a tiny part of me still believed that’s the turning point of my story but some fears just take more than one lucky brave day to get over.

I wasn’t ready because the audiences were bigger than my ‘speech’ and a lot of them had presented before my group and they were so well rehearsed and on fleeek! I felt that we could never topped them of. That’s my mindset, it has always been… be better or be as good as them so you don’t stand out in the crowd. My friends who went up there and presented on behalf of my whole group made me realized that it’s okay to not be ready. We just finished our power point a few minutes ago but they used humor and passion to lead the presentation. It was better than I expected and the world didn’t end like I thought it would.

I had a choice, go up there and be awkward or stay down here. You may say I’m a coward and yes I already felt bad for that but I truly am not ready. They say if not now then, when? I don’t know either. My time to practice public speaking in a school is running out but today’s not my day. I estimated the situation and my feelings, I know I’m going to mess up and feel worse for carrying a responsibility that someone else could have done better.

This is too big of a step and I wasn’t ready. I’d like to think that’s okay.

Another thing that happened last week is my pre-teen best friend’s birthday (btw, last week felt like ages in a teen’s life) She will always be one of the best people I know. Even if I knew her for who she was and not who she is, we have always been different but we’re very different now. I always think that extreme difference meant the inability to get along but that’s only my dumb negative mind. She’s still as nice as she was even with dyed hair, more confidence and more money to spend (which I appreciate because of the free birthday party dinner) Something were still the same though, the topic of things that I don’t really care about such as other people’s stories made me remember why I left. It wasn’t that she was bad to me but I no longer feel the need to know rumors about people who I hardly know. I always play it safe by being in the middle which meant I’m on mute for the most part. I’m honestly just drained from the drama and I guess being an introvert doesn’t help either.

I wasn’t ready for my ex-best friend to change but I’m okay and I don’t think I ever needed to be ready, it just happened. It’s scary that I can’t fall back to the same group of friends anymore but the fact that I hardly hang with them and they are just my plan B is unfair to them. I guess if I truly care, I would be with them now.

I’ll never be ready for a change whether knowingly or unknowingly. I’ll always feel nostalgic of the past even if I’m in a better place now. I need my past to be proud of who I am today. Every person needs a background to stand out. My pre-teen friend died, my pre-teen-self died a little with her too. I remember only what she loved from 4 years back so when I shopped for her gift, I got her an umbrella… it was for her to use while studying in London. My father said it was a gift that symbolize good bye… I think so too. I was saying my farewell to the girl who I used to gossip with, the girl who saw me spoke in front of the class for the very first time and the girl who asked me to play with her when I was just a weirdo talking to myself. Here’s to a new era of friendship. 

Last note, my best friend in the present noticed that one of our classmates had changed during a brief interaction that left me with one word to call her…‘rude’…We weren’t ready for it. My best friend said she doesn’t like that girl anymore and to that I said… “Just let it go, she isn’t worth caring” ooh burnnn (there’s not a chapter goes by without a reference from a few of my favorite things, this is from Easy A) 

Bye, from a very badass Sally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. I felt very badass that day and I like it.


	8. woops, I've made a mistake

Hi, I’m Sally.  
And I don’t know how to start this diary anymore. I even have to reread my previous chapters just to remember how to start...

A lot has happened since I last written but I have a reason for being gone for so long and a good one at that. You see, my absence of writing Sally’s updates have been replaced by writing a fiction. A story line came up in my head while I was listening to a song and suddenly my brain was flooded with images and storylines. I started forming characters and words that I love to come back to write every Saturday night. It was a great inspiration rollercoaster ride. However, I’ve been stuck for about 2 weeks because I can’t pin down the ‘love interest’s’ personality. I think part of the reason why I can’t write a realistic guy personality is because the lack of boys in my life and because I fantasize too much. Anyways, it’s mother’s day break so I might have the time to fix this huge problem and move on with my story because I really see a potential here. I even sent out my 2 chapter fiction for my best friends to read who gave me really neat feedbacks. I found people reading my words a very intimate gesture so I’m glad that I have ‘that’ level of comfort in my friendship.

Okay, after getting the excuse out of the way... the true reason why I had written this chapter is because I’d made a mistake last week and since the goal of this year is loving myself, I found that I started questioning just how exactly am I supposed to love myself when I’ve made a mistake? 

First of all, you should know that I suck at admitting that I’m wrong. I’m afraid everyday of mistakes and flaws but there are just sometimes that you really can’t deny how shitty your actions are or how ignorant and careless you are. I planned a surprise birthday for one of my best friends. It wasn’t clever or sweet at all. I stole something from her and made her worried. Part of me thought that my apology and me as a person wouldn’t make her upset because in the end, it was all for a good cause but I should’ve known better that it was too harsh. I wanted to do these somewhat mean surprises because a lot of people had done it but I forgot that our friendship was NEVER like normal teens. We’re different and when I stole her stuff, people say that it’s a cute gesture, people started seeing me in a new light because I dare to prank my best friend like other teens do. I was so caught up in their opinions that I didn’t think about the consequences. My best friend ended up crying on her birthday because since the morning, I couldn’t make it to school. I let her do a presentation alone, again. I lied about not stealing anything. I betrayed my best friend’s trust and it was the worst guilt ever. These surprises are not meant for us and I’m sorry even though I said it repetitively after the incident until it kind of loose its meaning, it still feels horrible.

I’m lucky enough to have a friend who doesn’t hold a grudge and soon we resume back to normal though you showed up late the next day because of a headache and puffy eyes which are the outcomes of my selfish actions. I say I care too much but at this point I don’t know if it’s positive anymore. I care too much about myself. Not in a good way but like who am I going to sit with in class, should I send this emoji in a text, why am I not good enough? ... I never really care too much for my friends or truthfully, anybody. I feel like I’m taking more than giving in many circumstances and I feel shit for just realizing it now.

I guess my solution for how to love yourself when you’ve made a mistake is… cry under the shower head while listening to heartbreaking tunes in max volume. Then feel incredibly disgusted with yourself, get consumed alive with guilt, try to blame it on other people only to realize that you are the worst… then accept your flaws, criticism, your careless mistakes and promise it will never happen again. Like never ever ever getting back to being stupid ever. That’s how we all learn to become a better person. I don’t like myself today so it’s best to believe in tomorrow and second chances. Accept and move on and try not to mess things up just to fit in. 

Bye, from Sally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. My diary sounds awfully like a magazine article now. I still got loads to tell so keep your eyes and curiosity open because next stop, we got some drama.


	9. i don't belong in time

Hi, I’m Sally   
And I’m fancying starting this public diary that only I am accessing it with a question. So here it goes…

Ever felt like you don’t belong?

I’m one of those people who experience ‘not belonging’. It just feels powerless, hopeless and pointless. It’s like you’re a piece of something but you don’t know what it is or where it is. It’s like you’re one of those things that made your room messy but you don’t want to get rid of it because you might need it out of the blue or it holds something sentimental so you let it sit there purposeless to collect dust and old remarks sometimes alone and sometimes in one of those miscellaneous fancy cookie tin boxes.

This feels as awfully morbid as a suicide note but I swear on the river styx it’s not. I just want to be honest. I want to find out what I’m feeling again because lately I’ve been reacting without knowing where all those emotions and actions came from and I’ve been listening to songs that encapsulate me in a feeling that I just don’t hear my voice anymore.

It all started with a girl who doesn’t know how to talk. Not exactly mute but more like choosing to be mute. She just doesn’t make sense. She’s just too quiet. She’s just always too much of something and too little of something that makes you communicate normally. She enjoys talking to herself because she knows she belongs in this mind and really even a critical mind like hers wouldn’t judge her every thought so she trusted it. This all made her not belong in the society.

Then she grew up, she felt uncomfortable with herself and her mind. She’s insecure about many things that made her abnormal and she felt too bored to be ‘normal’… whatever that means. Now she doesn’t even belong in her own skin.

So she tried to picture a future with success, love and confidence surrounding her. That’s what she called dreaming but the future has such big shoes for the present to fill. She wanted to walk faster, kick off her past shoes that are squeezing tighter and biting into her skin like a new pair of shoes would but she can’t. It’s just nostalgia and fear of going all in that’s scaring her. That kept her wearing a pair of tight shoes that still bites her even with the years going by. 

She’s afraid to dream now because when she went after it…she wasn’t good enough even with her heart on printed colors, her words written so vividly, it wasn’t enough because they can’t see it. Even though it’s real and all fleshed out, they can’t see it and somehow that made it all fade away. It became something they would toy with and laugh at and crush on. She had no future to belong to no more.

It’s always normal to not belong in a place or with someone because you can always move or change or just think of the places that you belong but what if you don’t belong in time.

What if the past doesn’t accept you, the present is just an ugly nightmare and the future refuses to be better than yesterday. I started doubting my existence. Why am I a part of this universe for nothing? What’s my next move? And if there’s someone up there from above controlling my life, my actions, my thoughts…shouldn’t I just stop trying, stop dreaming, stop believing and just flow along the stream and accept what faith has given me?

I don’t know if my curiosity counts as negativity but I just really need something to hold on to because without a purpose I’m always going to be here, stuck in where I don’t belong. The future will always run away from the present that’s why they say tomorrow never comes. That’s why I need to inline the span of my present with my future.

If only I have the heart to dream again…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. I was going to write about something else in this chapter but my life events in this diary got discontinued so I’m just here again at my most depressed time, writing and hoping for an answer.


	10. Aurevoir 2017

Hi , I’m sally

And This would probably be the last diary entry I wrote in 2017. This year blew by so fast. It was a year of studying more than I used to but not as much as I can. I found procrastination especially appealing during my midterms and final crisis. I tried to write several fictions which ended up dying in my head or in the first few chapters. I tried to write something personal but I never seemed to find the time to think. I was sick of my brain and thoughts so I found myself watching so many series like the bold type, the100 , dirk gently, crazy ex girlfriend, thirteen reasons why, mrs. Maisel just to name a few. Whenever a season ended, I immediately wanted to skip to next year to see what would happen next to these characters. I seemed to be a fan of everyone’s life. I found myself thinking that these friends will make it big someday and somewhere in the world and I’d be finding it all out through some sort of a tiny screen device. I wanted to see them grow but I realised that as I was wishing my days and years away, my life is happening as well and I’m doing nothing about it. I have attempted to love myself several times actually but I found it hard to love someone who has nothing there to love. I always managed to mess up things or say things wrong which already caused me my future. In the darkest of times I see people who are always there for me or they were there silently or they were never there but showed up for support. I felt like I don’t deserve their love sometimes because as they say in the perks of being a wallflower ‘we accept the love we think we deserve ‘ and I guessed I feel better if people treated me like shit because I am shit. 

I’ve opened up to people who I thought wouldn’t understand me. I told my stories to strangers. That wasn’t brave. I don’t know what it was but I knew that I wanted a listener. I’m sick of telling my stories to myself again and again cause it never changed. It only worsened. 

Some positive things, I made friends, well they actually befriended me first. They gave me 80% initials and I mostly had to listen and nod but sometimes they would, let me give them 50% or even more. It’s kind of nice. They were unexpected friends, you know. People who live a completely different world from mine even if we are in the same school. 

I drifted away from some people. It came with them finding a better fit. It came with me never sitting with them. They knew I can be fun and funny but I seemed to be unable to be those things around them anymore. I felt like an outsider more than before. I felt like every word and action I do is stupid. Sometimes they would say something condescending as if I weren’t there and I let it slide because I don’t know what to say. 

I tried to be less attached to my best friend because I thought I could do things without her but the truth is, I can’t. I never felt loved or excepted or heard the way I did with my friends and the scary part is they seemed to be doing fine without me. What if I can’t find these people. My people in wherever I ended up?

I never really let myself go. I’m sad but never depressed. I’m happy but never thrilled. I was never overwhelmed with feelings but that’s not how I want to live. They say it’s good to be conscious of what you feel but I’m too conscious to the point where I’m scared of feelings. 

I feel like I have to give more , have more to offer just to make other people stay. I’m the most careless with people who meant the most. I feel like I’m always on someone’s schedule, someone’s time, someone ‘s story. That someone was never me. I came last. People who are close, second. Mere strangers, first. 

It was bad a few years before when I started feeling uncomfortable in my own skin but it was the stress of knowing absolutely nothing of where to go that terrifies me. I can’t even be myself in somewhere that I’m familiar with, who will I become in wherever I ended up going? I don’t even want to go to college after being turned down once. I was demotivated to the core. I know, I’m a quitter but it was my first rejection. I’m not saying that I’ll quit my dreams but I think my dreams should lie elsewhere where people actually appreciated it, appreciated me and not laugh at my answer. 

Here’s to 2018. I’m going to be old as hell this year. I still feel like a child even though I don’t act like one in front of people. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who will still be with me. I don’t fucking know so ...Dear 2018 ,would you be so kind to give me just some of the answers I’ve been asking. Cuz life sucks right now and I just wanted to know if it’s going to continue sucking like this forever or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. Here goes another year. Hope it’s good


	11. a bad French poem

This is a quick short post so enjoy  
here’s a very bad grammatically written French poem

je ne suis pas assez bien  
Je ne serai jamais assez bien  
Si je regarde les autres  
je ne me vois plus

Je n’ai qu’une chose  
que je peux faire bien  
C’est seulement une petite chose  
mais je peux construire une monde avec la, non?  
Comment ce n’est encore assez?

I honestly think that the reason why I’m jealous of other people or why I can’t be fully happy with others success even if I want to so badly because I love them, is because I fear being less. Being not enough.  
I think it’s kind of pathetic that I have to console myself every time I have negative thoughts like these. It’s like a mini debate that results in headaches and dramatic unnecessary tears.

but self hate is nothing new to me. I’m running out of ways to write how depressed I am with my little struggle to come to whoever I am. So instead of switching words out and being creative, I’ll just write in another language to feel cooler

Just a side note: Today’s my sister’s birthday. I love her to death and beyond whatever death is and I thank my insecurities for finally forcing me to use my third language to create poems. Think of how dramatic a person has to be to write a poem in French and it’s not even her second language.

til next time  
Sally


	12. I’ve got nothing

Hi, I’m Sally   
and here goes nothing 

There’s nothing poetic or realistic or eye opening in this chapter. it’s really just nothing. So first I’ve self-diagnosed that I have social anxiety and here’s why...

1\. I cannot have a normal conversation without struggling to get my words out and occasional dead airs unless we’re close

2\. I have trouble eating in public alone so I prefer public bathrooms even if the neighbouring stall is having a good old poopy time

3\. I’m terrible at texting and answering my phones because I’m usually home. Recharging my energy by being utterly alone and watching YouTube vids or I’m too lazy to struggle keeping up conversations 

4\. I absolutely detest public speaking with a passion. I hate all forms of talking with humans staring at me like presentations or down to raising my hand to order food or if the vender tries to talk to me while I’m looking at clothes, I’ll be super uncomfortable to stay in that shop.

5\. I cannot be myself or do things without thinking at least more than twice. Especially things I wouldn’t do. 

6\. I tear myself apart if I do just one little thing wrong. I’d go over my flaws or my mistakes even if people don’t notice them. 

These are all I can think of the top of my head. having a name for what I’ve had experienced my whole life is kind of nice. It’s easy to refer to all of my weird habits by just saying it’s my social anxiety but it also made me become super aware that everything I do is the act of social anxiety and like every other label. They suck for me. They limit me to act a certain way so now I’m like...I probably can’t do this because I have social anxiety so that’s not very good but I like knowing things. I don’t think I’ll be happy ignoring what I have and pretending to be happy just because I pushed a problem out of sight. 

Someone important to me said I should have a “so what” attitude. I put myself out there and so what if you hate me? I don’t care because I love myself. Well...we see the default in that. Last year, I tried to love myself but it kind of got lost along the way so I think I’m going to try a new thing which is “fake it til you make it” I don’t care if it’s faking because it’s worth the try if in the end I’ll actually “make it”. I’ll fake a “so what” whenever I feel uncertain of being myself and eventually I’ll love myself ?

My main insecurity that I discover is being inefficient, not enough or just dumb to be short. I want to be something. I want to have ideas, opinions, feelings. I want to contribute but sometimes I go blank and it’s scary because 

1\. It destroys my so called “smarty pants “ persona. What I fear most isn’t being dumb but it’s being book-smart but dumb in real life. What’s the point of understanding a lesson if you can’t explain it to your friends. What’s the point of knowing the answer to a test but is terrible at executing it in your daily life. 

2\. I don’t know what to answer if someone asks me during my blank period sessions . I’ll be standing still with a smile plastered on my face and muttering I don’t know or other ridiculous shenanigans that I made up at that time. 

3\. I’ll panic and sweat and get super embarrassed so I’ll rake my brain for answers or any tiny infos I can recover but my memory only moves in sloppy slow motion that it confuses me even more. I ended up getting even more lightheaded and hate myself even more for going blank so yeah ... not the most fun thing to experience 

I guess you can call this a brief explanation of what goes on in dumb people’s head. The thing is I go blank all the time even in tests but in tests it’s less stressful and if I mess up, it’s just me that’s going down. Plus I get time to regain my conscious and knowledge which will be deleted after I had answered. 

The point is there’s no way of fixing it. I’m terrible at thinking on my feet especially under pressure so my future job that involves both of those things is doomed. 

I don’t have a way to make myself feel better at being dumb because you cannot possibly like being stupid. I think it’s always fine being dumb or helpless but it’s another thing if someone thinks it and it’s a whole new level if that someone is the one you consider to never say that about you. Even if it’s true, it hurts. It can be a joke. That I don’t mind much but a serious insult with a proper condescending tone is just not okay. 

I watched the perks of being a wallflower since I was like 12. I never understood the famous quote “we accept the love we think we deserve “. when I first heard it, I knew it’s important but I never got it. Even if I read the analogy, I still don’t quite understand or I did but forget. Only recently, I read it again and I think I sort of got it

“We accept the love we think we deserve “

I always thought I deserve less. I deserve to be just a friend and not someone’s best friend. I deserve to be a normal person but not extraordinary. I deserve to have a food and a roof above my head instead of a caring mother. I deserve to be called dumb because I am.

but now I think I don’t deserve just that or I don’t deserve those shit at all so why am I accepting it when it’s clearly not enough. Why don’t I leave or demand for more from people who treat me less or treat me like nothing?

The answer is I always think I don’t deserve it. All the love , the care, the help because I’m worthless but whenever I think I’m worthless ,it fucking hurts so it’s not true because I’m rejecting this feeling even unconsciously. I don’t want to be treated like crap. Otherwise I’d be laughing and grinning at insults instead of crying. 

The key word in this quote is “think” so if the mindset change I think the people we surround ourselves would change and the kind of love and respect we get and us as a person will too change eventually. 

So I think with the dumb thing   
First, fake the “so what” attitude and second “keep in mind that you deserve better “ demand it, own it, walk away from it if it’s going to make you happy. 

til next time   
Sally


	13. look at the present not the past

Hi it’s sally  
And here goes something 

An update: I graduated high school and at the graduation ceremony I learned a lot of things.

1\. I learned that I cannot write a good bye speech thanking this school. 

2.I learned to be a proud fricking friend when my best friend made her speech for our French class. 

3.I learned that nothing is expected of me to be like her. 

4.I learned that the bouquets of flowers you receive will be indistinguishable unless it came from someone who really mattered. 

5.I learned that my family somewhat cared about my success. 

6.I learned that despite leaving the gates of my school, I’m still conforming to the same persona I had

7.I am still afraid. Possibly now more than ever

8.I am not alone even if I pushed myself away from people at times

9.I learned that I have a hairstyle that made me feel extra pretty 

10.and I did it myself 

Soooo fast forwarding a few days after. I got a call while singing a karaoke of Versace on the floor that I got into my plan B uni.   
I was more confused than happy because now I have to choose between a uni that I’ve always wanted but they might not want me and a uni that has seen both my writing and speaking skills and still accepts it.   
My plan B sucks because if I accept it, I can’t choose plan A anymore. So it’s purely just a gut feeling.   
Every Gryffindoor blood in me is rebelling. I feel like the more people support plan B the more it’s feeding into defying it. 

I have a book of Q & A asking myself the same question each year. A question asked where I want to study. My answers were never plan B but then again, I’m not a realist. My answers were based on dreams and the stereotypes in those uni. I never really did much research for my plan A. I just thought it’s a solid answer that suits what I want.   
While prepping for an interview for my plan B, I actually have to fake liking it, find all the pros in it that I’ve never looked into before but instead of being fake, it became a real answer that I believed in.   
It’s scary because I have trust issues with other people but also with myself and here comes a life fork decision that I have to make and I don’t know if I’ve actually convinced myself to like Plan B so much like an actor who’s trying method acting a serial killer so he’s justifying it with all the serial killer “logic” only to find himself being okay with that logic coming out of the movie. 

I’m always a heart over head kind of girl but what if what my heart and my head want has already aligned but I didn’t even notice. 

My best friend said that “don’t look at the past, look at the present “ and I think it’s great advice for this situation. Throughout those years that I’ve been writing the answers to that question, the first year I was still confused of what to study, the second year I got a grip of what I wanted. Third year I started working towards this dream but this is the fourth year.   
Me 3 years ago was not rejected by what she wanted twice. Me 3 years ago still have time to not procrastinate with YouTube videos over studying. Me 3 years ago was still ashamed of the success that came too easily.

I believe myself to be a stubborn human so if I have a belief on something, it’s really hard to rattle that. It’s time to reflect my beliefs now. 

I’m still a heart person but I feel like what’s logical is what my heart likes. It’s safe and I know I hate the feeling of being all too comfy but this didn’t feel too safe.   
It’s like knowing you have a ticket to this flight and you have no idea whether it’s going to be a smooth sail or a bumpy ride but at least you’re going somewhere. 

Choosing Plan B meant   
1\. Accepting that I can be proud of getting in even if it was never my first choice because it’s my first choice now   
2\. Now is what matters   
3\. Risking the lack of friends in the next 4 years  
4\. Being with people who already stereotyped me in their brains  
5\. Believing that there are weird outcasts like me  
6\. Rocking a coloured hair will be a tad more awkward than usual   
7\. Less theatre than I expected   
8\. Not even being in the same uni as my bff  
9\. Still living in the city that I’ve been to all my damn life   
10\. Poor might not look so nice 

There’s a lot of risk going in there to keep me feeling unsafe but there’s enough protection so I don’t feel too blind. 

I hope I’m choosing what’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. I might end the Sally’s public diary saga here because I feel like the first move towards breaking free from who I used to be, is believing that I’m not in high school anymore...til next time


End file.
